Secrets, lies, and spies
by spinspin
Summary: Chapter Three is up after a long wait! Please enjoy! Sequel to my other story Predictable Betrayal. Kate's mission with the Mossad continue, but who will she get mixed up with and how does this fit in with NCIS?
1. Prologue

Author's Note: This is a sequel to my other story Predictable Betrayal that you should probably read first in order to understand this one. This takes place six months after the other one ends. Spoilers for my version of Twilight and things that relate to La Grenuille existence but not actual events.

Secrets, lies, and spies

Prologue

The setting sun glistened off the water as Maria Romano crossed over the low bridge. Her dark sunglasses, protecting her eyes as the light filtered its' way through her long dark hair. Her steps were not hurried, nor were they slow, no they set the perfect pace for an ordinary Italian on her way home from work. Maria Romano was on her way to a house, by a round about way, it just didn't happen to be hers. Just like the name Maria Romano wasn't hers either. Not that it mattered, cause at the moment it really didn't.

What mattered was about fifty feet in front of her, wearing a dark overcoat and sunglasses that could have matched her own, and carrying a briefcase that could and most likely did contain launch codes to Israeli missiles. Codes that it was her job to get before Mr. Dark Overcoat, sold them to his superior who in turn sold them to someone else, who sold them to someone who would use those codes to attack their enemies. Enemies that could include both Israel and the United States, along with the rest of the free or not so free world.

Merging more fully with the foot traffic that surrounded her, Maria allowed her steps to become slightly quicker, decreasing the distance between herself and her quarry. She was Mossad, but not by choice, nor was she originally supposed to be a field agent; though that didn't matter either. What did matter is that she was particularly good at her new trade. She had the ability to blend in pretty much anywhere, which combined with her language skills made her an ideal agent. Her previous training in both protection details, weapons, and hand-to-hand combat, didn't hurt either. Add to all that some degree of forensic training which allowed her to leave no evidence at a crime scene and her bosses had the full package deal.

Making sure that her black leather gloves were secure around nimble fingers, she moved closer. She was almost in place. She followed as he wove through the back streets and alleyways of a seeder side of the city. People were fewer here, and the setting sun had provided the perfect cover of twilight. This was almost too easy.

The handgun that she pulled from a coat pocket felt heavy in her hand. There had been a time when she had felt bad about what she was going to do. About the fact that she was going to kill a man in cold blood, with no trial, no judge, and no questions asked. But that was then, back before she had given up her life. This was now, and she both knew and understood the need for her not so legal actions.

She took one last glance at her surroundings, satisfying that they were alone, before she fitted the silencer over the end of her weapon. She didn't stop walking as the not so silent act of preparing her weapon caused the man in front of her to turn around with a start. Her gun was raised and three kill shots were embedded in his heart before he could even call out in alarm.

Without pausing in her stride she moved to pick the briefcase out of his now dead hand, before continuing down the alleyway, once again merging with the foot traffic. Doubling back she re-crossed the low bridge, dropping her weapon into the water below. Heading into the night she let her mind wander, thinking about what was waiting for her back in DC. It was time to go home.

She didn't look back, maybe if she had, she would have been able to tell that she had picked up a tail of her own. Maybe if her mind hadn't been preoccupied she would have noticed that there seemed to be fewer people along this stretch of road then before. Maybe she would have noticed the arm that snaked out of an alley and pulled her in, placing the drugged rag over her mouth. But maybes weren't important right now. As she attempted to fight the darkness that was closing in on her, the woman formally known as Caitlin Todd knew with complete certainty, that now was not the time for ifs and maybes.


	2. Chapter One

Author's Note: Thanks so much to the people who read the first part, and especially to the people who reviewed. I hope that you like chapter one :)

Chapter One

After six months in her current position Jenny Shepard decided that she was finally getting used to her job. Sure she missed fieldwork, missed the adrenalin rush that accompanied chasing down a suspect, and even occasionally missed the crazy hours and the stakeouts. Now days her gun always stayed locked in her desk, her badge beside it. They were accessories of the past, no matter if that past was distant or not.

The other director's of the various agencies finally seemed to be getting used to having a woman among their ranks. The half hidden jeers that had at first been a constant were gone. No the glares she got now were normal 'you shouldn't be handling this' or 'we have jurisdiction, not you' glares that passed all too regularly between the heads of the alphabet soup organizations of Washington.

Even Gibbs seemed to be ok with her new position. Yes there were awkward moments, and tense moments, and some down right hilarious moments. But none of these openly questioned her authority over him. No he didn't knock, didn't ask Cynthia if she was free, before barging into her office. But this was Gibbs, and that just happened to be the way that he operated.

Though almost six months ago there had been a moment that made her question everything. The moment where she discovered that Gibbs knew Kate was alive. That day when he walked into the bullpen, she had watched. Watched as he climbed the steps to stand beside her. Sure he may have looked like the same old Gibbs, but there was an underlying sprinkle of happiness in his steps. When she had first seen him, she thought that such happiness might have been due to the fact that Ari was dead. But when he invaded her personal space to whisper four simple words into her ear, she knew that his happiness was due to Kate.

"_We need to talk."_ She could still remember the tone, the inflection of his voice. Could remember the feeling of fear that ran through her, as she retreated into her office and asked Cynthia to get Ducky to come up. Her fear had been unwarranted. Surprisingly he wasn't angry with her or the medical examiner that had been a part of the plan. No it seemed like he was just overjoyed with the fact that Kate was now in his life again.

This happy Gibbs of course lasted for only as long as it took her to explain that Mia, as Kate was now known still needed to keep up her cover. She still needed to work for the Mossad, and that she would not be coming back to NCIS, at least not in the near future. Ducky's presence helped keep the other man under control. Control that he barely managed to hold on to when he was told that the other members of the team could not and would not ever know what really had happened to their collogue.

Once he had sworn that he wouldn't reveal anything, and had surprisingly accepted to make Ziva a member of his team, Jen breathed a sigh of relief. She certainly wasn't going to try and get Leroy Jethro Gibbs to stop seeing a woman who made him as happy as Kate Todd did. She wasn't even jealous. He was a man who hadn't had all that much happiness in his life and he deserved a little, no matter how odd the circumstances surrounding such happiness might be.

The ringing of her phone brought her back to the present. Picking it up Cynthia's voice told her that the Deputy Director of Mossad was requesting an emergency videoconference. As she headed quickly from her office to MTAC only to come in contact with the grim face of Ziva's father, she had a sinking feeling that her semi-happy days were going to come to an end.

--

Gibbs couldn't help the sigh that escaped from his mouth as he watched DiNozzo handcuff the suspect before him. This last case had been harder and more deranged then normal, and the interrogation hadn't been much better. Rubbing the back of his neck to release the built up tension that had settled there, he took a long drag on the remnants of his now cold coffee. With a grimace he headed for the door, masking his surprise as he nearly bumped into a tense looking Jenny Shepard.

"What's wrong?" He asked, protesting inwardly that he didn't want to deal with any more situations right now. All he wanted at the moment was to go home and work on his boat, and hopefully find that Kate was back from another one of her missions.

"Not here." Was her only reply, and that only unnerved him more. What could be either so serious or so secret that they couldn't talk about it here? He was about to voice this question, but the look on her face stopped him. She would tell him when she deemed fit and nothing she said or did was going to speed up that process.

The elevator carried them silently to the forth floor, and he followed as she hurried by MTAC and into her office. He was surprised that Cynthia was not sitting at her desk, and was further surprised when his boss reached behind him to lock the door that lead to the bullpen. Entering her inner office she waited till he was inside, only to lock that door as well. Whatever was up, it was something big, and something private. Gibbs had never seen her act this way.

"Please take a seat." She said before moving to take her own. Her voice was soft and caring, almost as if she didn't want to explain, but yet had resigned herself to the fact that she had to do just that. "I need you to promise me that you will hear me out."

"Of course Jen, just get on with it." His patience was beginning to wear thin.

"No, Jethro. I need you to promise." He had never broken a promise, a fact she knew, which is why it was so important that he promise her.

"I promise." At his words Jen lowered her eyes to the papers that were scattered over her desk. They had nothing to do with what she was going to say, but staring at the jumbled words allowed her a moment to gather her wits once more. When she looked up she was ready.

"Twenty minutes ago, I had a video conference with the Deputy Director of Mossad. He had just received a report out of Italy, concerning the disappearance of one of his agents." He looked like he was going to say something, but with a raise of her hand she continued.

"She was on a mission to capture stolen Israeli missile launch codes, before they could be sold on the black market. There's nothing concrete but Tel Aviv believe that she may have been captured by one of the arms dealers, which would enable them to get to codes they were after but also a bargaining chip, in the form of the agent. Only Mossad doesn't negotiate."

"She?" He asked softly, watching as her face fell, her eyes softening before she returned her gaze to the papers on her desk.

Even since she had mentioned the Mossad, all he could think about was that something had happened to Kate. She hadn't said it yet, but he only knew two members of the Mossad, and one of those members was down in the bullpen working on a case report. Every action of the woman sitting across from him confirmed it. The hesitation, the reluctance, but he needed to know.

His voice when he finally worked up the strength to use it was weak and hollow. "Kate?"

"I'm sorry, Jethro."

Half a year ago his first reaction would have been rage, which is probably why Jenny had locked all the doors. That way at least his angry rant would have been controlled, if only for as long as it took him to pick the lock. But these past months with Kate had changed him. She had poked holes in the gruff shell he had always worn, for as much his protection as the protection as others. He had allowed himself to soften, to become more human. Something, at times he was sure he hadn't been since he lost Shannon and Kelly. Yes he had changed, more then he had wanted to admit, but never would he have guessed that his first reaction would be to slump back into his chair and close his eyes against tears that threatened to flow.

The battle to hold on to some scrap of his bastardness, of his dignity, was soon lost and he could feel his shoulders begin to shake. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered the sound of Jen's heels scuffing the carpet. Felt gentle arms wrap around him in a very un-director like move. He knew that he should pull away from her, knew that he should have kept his emotions locked away, but he didn't, he couldn't. Instead he used his own arms to pull her closer, as silent tears fell from his eyes onto the shoulder of her suit jacket.

He didn't hear the soft words of comfort, didn't feel the hands that were rubbing slow circles over the tense muscles of his back. He was in a different place, a different time, hearing different words. _"They're gone Gunny, I'm sorry."_ Words that seemed to tear into his mind, pulling him out of his own personal hell with the realization that Kate wasn't gone, she wasn't dead.

Captured maybe, a prisoner of some psychopath maybe, but not dead. He would know if she was. The feeling of unease that had descended on him sixteen years ago would have been back, but it wasn't. She was still alive, and he was going to find her, before his fears about her being dead became true. Pulling back he tried unsuccessfully to wipe the tear tracks off his face before looking his boss in the eye.

"I will bring her back." His voice was hardened, unwavering, a perfect match for the look in his steel blue bloodshot eyes. He took the tissues that Jenny offered pushing himself out of the chair. Standing, he reassessed what little she had told him; hopefully it wasn't all that she knew.

"I need Intel. Who do the Mossad think is involved? I need further details about her mission." He was in full investigator mode now, and his words came fast, until the woman in front of him held up a hand for silence.

"Look Jethro, I know what she means to you, and I am not foolish enough to try and stop you, but this has to be done right. Caitlin Todd is dead, and she must remain so. You have to understand that I was the one who convinced Mossad to let her stay in contact with you, and now it is my ass on the line if you decide to go and do something stupid."

"Jen, I don't care about your ass right now. I will find her and I will use my team to do it. Unless you think that it would be better that I go this alone?" The anger that she had been worried about was now in full force. His words cutting like knives through the tension in the air.

"Like I said, I'm not going to try and stop you, no one but Ziva and Ducky can know what your true purpose is. No one. I need reassurances that you will not tell them, before I tell you anything else. Nor will you try and do anything on your own." Her tone was matched his, and she was relieved to see him return to his seat, glaring the whole while.

"Fine, I won't tell them. But you sure as hell are going to tell me everything you know, no matter how insignificant you think it is. I suggest you start now."

When he left her office half an hour later, the tear streaks were gone, though his eyes were still bloodshot. Heading to his desk he ignored Tony's, "You look like hell boss." Along with the questioning look from McGee, and a worried glance from Ziva. Instead he took a seat at his desk, pulling up a file and putting it up on the plasma.

"This is La Grenuille, an arms dealer." With a click of the mouse, another picture appeared, showing a woman with red hair and bright green eyes dressed in the uniform of a Navy lieutenant. "He is suspected of abducting her, Mia Rief, a crypto analyst on the Seahawk, while the ship was docked in Naples yesterday."

Gibbs was pleased that he could project his normal gruff tone of voice when he was feeling far from normal. He had been surprised when Jen had come up with that cover story, which as long as Ziva did the digging into her record, should stand up to scrutiny. He moved over to his desk drawer and pulled out his service weapon.

Tony, who had come out from behind his desk, let out a low whistle. "That's one hot lieutenant." A comment that quickly earned him a slap to the head that was a little harder then normal. "Oww, boss."

"DiNozzo, McGee. I want to know everything there is to know about this guy. Ziva, with me." Ziva following quickly on his heels.

Once they were safely enclosed in the metal box, he flipped the emergency switch. "Contact your friends with the Mossad. I need to know everything, I know that there must be things that they won't tell Director Shepard, and I need to know what those things are." He didn't turn to face the young Mossad agent as he spoke.

"I'm sorry, Gibbs." Her voice was surprisingly soft, a quality that he didn't think she possessed. A slight nod was the only acknowledgment her words received.

"Try and keep your inquires quiet if you can. There may be a mole of some kind in your organization." With a another flick of the switch and a whirl the elevator began its' slow descent.

"Where are you going?" She asked, her words difficult to hear above the ding that announced their arrival.

"To get in touch with some old friends." He was gone to quickly for her to question him further, the brown of his coat turning a corner, the only indication of where he was headed.


	3. Chapter Two

Author's Note: Sorry that this part took so long to get up and that it is shorter then the last chapter. I have been very busy with exams and moving and such. I hope that you enjoy, and thank you so much to everyone who has read this story. Please take the time to tell me what you thought, whether it is good or bad.

Also this chapter is very dark and involves torture, as such I have upped the rating, I hope that this doesn't offend anyone, but I thought that it was something that needed to happen for the story.

Chapter Two

The passage of time seemed nonexistent. She had no watch; the blindfold prevented her from seeing sunlight, if there even was any sunlight to see, which judging by the fact that she felt no warmth against her skin was probably also nonexistent. Silently she began her count again. Counting didn't really help identify how much time had passed but it did keep her mind in some form of alertness, and provided a welcome distraction from the pain in her arms.

It was probably the pain that had awakened her form her drugged stupor. Her arms were restrained behind her back, elbows locked, forcing even more discomfort. Even if she had been able to find a way out she highly doubted if her arms would have been of much use. Whoever her captors were they were very thorough, not even a finger was left free. Her legs suffered the same kind of nasty predicament.

Upon realizing that her arms were useless she had tried to move her legs only to find that she was in a kneeling position, unable to move either her ankles or her knees. It was then that it became apparent that her hands and her feet were somehow being held together.

Her count had reached a thousand when she heard noises for the first time since she had woken. The sound of heavy chains and scuffing feet, maybe she was finally about to meet her captors. Words filtered through her chamber and she forced her face to relax and show a look of complete non-comprehension. She was supposed to be an Italian, and there was no reason for her to be able to understand the French that she was hearing.

Such a precaution was probably useless, seeing that these people obviously knew all about her mission to recapture the missile codes. Though considering her situation there was no way that she wasn't going to use every possible thing to her advantage. The voices moved closer still and she could hear the sound of rusted hinges scraping together.

"Ah Jacques, so this is our new guest. Turn on the light so that we might see her beauty better." Again she forced herself to show nothing at the French words. The voice was male and sounded tough, experienced. She heard the click that must have turned on the light but she could not see its effects.

His male counterpart joined the conversation, as footsteps moved even closer to her. "She is a beauty. Doesn't it always surprise you that female agents are always beautiful?" The slow chuckle that filled the room sent tingles of fear down her spine, but she didn't let it show. "I believe that it must be a requirement, beauty that is, right up there with weapons handling." Calloused hands ran over her chin and down her exposed throat, before running softly through her hair. This time she couldn't suppress the shiver of disgust that ran through her.

"Now, now Jacques, no touching. At least not yet." Again came the chuckle. "Take off the blindfold. I want to see her eyes." At his words harsh light penetrated eyes long accustomed to darkness, she attempted to close her eyelids, only to have them forcefully held open. "Yes, beautiful eyes. Though I suspect that they aren't really your natural colour." She didn't react to the words, nor did she try to fight, but with each passing moment it was getting harder and harder to remain passive.

"I think that we may be experiencing communication difficulties, my dear. Do you understand me now?" He asked after switching to Italian. Thankfully she was now able to react.

"Yes." Her voice came out scratchy and soft, but it was still there, and that was the important part.

"Good, good my dear. Then I believe it is time for us to get down to business. Jacques release her eyes, after removing her contact lenses. Do you know that there are some who believe eyes are the windows to the soul?" She tried to nod but found that the pain from doing so was almost unbearable; her body was in such a contorted position. After her contacts were gone and the man had stepped back she was still unable to see anything besides the light. The blinding light.

The voice of the man who seemed to be in charge came again from the shadows, someplace to her left. "I am sorry for the restraints, but you must realize that they are nessicary." The sad part was that he did sound sincere, but she wasn't about to let herself fall into that trap. These man who ever they were, were responsible for her capture, and quite possibly her impending death and they would never be anything but monsters in her eyes.

The chains that she had identified earlier were being moved closer, though she couldn't tell how close. She hoped that she would never learn what they intended to do with them, but when the harsh voice again spoke from the shadows she knew that such hopes were in vain.

"You hear them don't you; the chains? Perhaps you even wonder about their purpose. It is simple really, there is a pulley directly above you head, a pulley through which Jacques here will run the chains. Now that in itself doesn't sound too bad does it? In fact it isn't bad at all until you consider the fact that the chains run between your back and your bound arms."

As he spoke the rattling could be heard over her head, and for a moment she was given a reprieve from the blinding light. But only a moment. Through the thin cotton of her shirt she felt the cold metal against her skin. Could feel as they were harshly tightened increasing the pain that she was already in.

"That hurts, doesn't it my little beauty? Such pain is nothing compared to what is coming. Now where was I? Oh yes, explaining the devious little purpose of my metal here. Well you see I am going to ask you some questions and if I don't like your answers or you don't answer promptly, Jacques will give a little tug on these chains. Eventually he will lift you right off the floor, though not before you dislocate both of your shoulders. And that my dear, is a terrible pain."

She tried to clear her mind. To forget about the pain that she was in. To block out everything but the training that she had received in resisting interrogation. It was working but not well enough. All she succeeded in doing was distancing herself from her surroundings, so much so that when a harsh and raspy voice spoke in her ear she gasped in shock. Not knowing that he had approached so close.

"Pay attention beauty. I don't want to make this any harder then I have to. Now tell me your name." For a split second she couldn't decide what name to give, and it was that split second that caused the first pull on the chain. She managed to turn the scream of pain into a loud hiss, and still cursed herself for showing weakness. "I said tell me your name."

Her reply came through clenched teeth; she would have to be careful that she didn't bite down on her tongue. "Maria. Maria Romano."

"Ah Maria, a beautiful name fit for a beautiful woman." Her interrogator allowed himself a small chuckle before he retreated once more into the darkness behind her. "Though I don't believe that is your real name. So I ask, my dear Maria, may I call you Maria, what is your real name?"

"My name is Maria Romano." She tried to put as much assurance as possible into the statement, but either she wasn't good at lying or these people knew more about her then she suspected.

"Wrong answer, Ms. Reif." This time she couldn't stop the cry of pure agony that surged through her body and out of her fully open mouth. "I warned you, my dear, terrible pain, and that is not even the worst of it."

"You see your name is of little consequence my dear. I know enough about you to know that, and to know that you are working with our lovely Israeli friends at the Mossad. You see what I really want to know, is how much exactly they know. How much, Ms. Reif?"

"Everything, they know everything about the entire organization." The second the words left her mouth she knew that they had been a mistake. They were too quick, she didn't even take the time to analysis any facts that may have been in her brain. Her scream pierced the air once more, the pull of the chain contorting her arms, combined with the sweat that had just dripped into her eyes, made it even more difficult to concentrate.

"Is that so, my dear?"

"Yes."

"Then tell me my name." Even through her pain induced haze she saw that this might be her way out.

"I can't." Again the chain pulled, and again her scream echoed through the small room. It was becoming extremely difficult to control both her mind and her body. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She had to get this to stop, and soon.

"I know that you can't. You see, it is impossible to tell what you do not know."

For the first time she spoke with out prompting. "No." She couldn't help the joy that swelled through her at the fact that this word didn't cause new pain.

"No, you can't? Or no you know?" The cold voice had taken on a amused quality that was even more frightening then the harshness.

"Both." Was the only reply that she could get out. The chains clanged through the pulley and she could feel her knees begin to leave the floor.

The amused voice was gone, to be replaced with a harsh and angry one. "Don't get cheeky with me. One more pull and your shoulders dislocate. Explain!" The final command was bellowed in her ear. As much as she made a mistake in her original answer he had made a mistake in letting his emotions become involved.

"Can't see... shadows." She knew that she wasn't capable of forming a complete sentence but hopefully she could get her point across. She just needed one more pull.

"I am so terribly sorry to make this difficult for you. How thoughtless of me, when you have cooperated so well." The sarcasm in his voice was evident, but it still got her what she wanted. He moved into the light, though parts of his face were still in shadow she could see that it was lined with age. And that the hair on top of his head was white and receding. Now all she had to do was make him believe that she knew who he was.

She schooled her features so that they portrayed recognition, at the same time she allowed her eyes to shift out of focus, giving in to the pain that she was trying to block out. "Thought." The word that left her parted lips was weak, and only angered him more.

"Thought what, Ms. Reif?"

"Thought." Her further weakened answer didn't satisfy him. A sickening crack filled the air, and with something akin to a sigh Caitlin Todd allowed her body to embrace the welcome darkness that came with passing out.


	4. author's note

Author's Note: I just thought that I should let everyone know that this story will be updated but it may take a while. This summer I am going to try and finish all of the stories that I have which are unfinished. Thank you for your patience.

spinspin


	5. Chapter Three

Author's Note: Thank you so much to anyone out there who has held out hope that this story might be updated. May I finally present to you chapter three. Sorry if it sounds out of sorts, I am still working on getting my Gibbs voice back. Reviews are greatly welcomed.

Chapter Three

He walked like a man on a mission, and indeed he was, a mission he didn't want and in many respects one for which he felt unprepared. Being unprepared was something that was not usually felt by Jethro Gibbs, and that made things all the worse. In an attempt to regain the purpose he had felt upon leaving Ziva, Gibbs worked to compartmentalize his head. It was hard to construct the box which held his emotions in place. Hard to put back the things, that upon finding his Kate was alive six months ago, had risen to the surface with such force. Which was one of the reasons why he had parked his car three blocks from his destination, in order to make sure that his hard bastard persona was in place for the meeting ahead.

The sidewalk flaked under his shoes, just one of many distinguishing factors of the run down neighbourhood he had entered. Off to his left a dog barked, followed by the sound of a clinking chain as the mutt tried to catch up to him. He walked about ten feet more or so and stood in front of a house that, if the chipped paint around the door frame were any indication, had once been yellow. The rusted mailbox had the name Morrison crudely written. Stretched across the bottom step was a thin wire, designed to alert the owner of the house to any presence. Skipping the bottom step entirely Gibbs knocked swiftly on the door.

The door opened no more than a crack, a crack so small that only a line of beard and a glazed over green eye were visible. "Whaddya want Gunny?"

"Well for starters Morrison you could let me in." Gibbs didn't wait for a reply but instead pushed the door open squeezing past the other man's overly round belly. "Then you could round me up a cup of coffee and cut the act."

A small smile broke out behind the beard, followed by a short laugh. "I'll see what I can do, can't be too careful 'round here, Gunny. 'Specially when old 'friend's' come poppin' by."

Nodding slowly Gibbs took a seat on the tattered old couch, which was out of place with the whirling sound of state of the art computers, that were capable of doing who knows what. There was the clang of cups and cupboard doors as his former Marine buddy worked in the kitchen. While he waited he took his time considering once more how to best approach the situation before him. It was a risk to come here, but Kate was worth this risk and more.

Morrison returned with two steaming mugs, and took a seat in the big arm chair across from Gibbs, one hand holding his own coffee the other within reach of the sawed off shotgun which sat on an end-table that had seen better days. The gesture did not go unnoticed. "You got your coffee, now whaddya want Gunny?"

"I need some information, I'm supposed to get it elsewhere but I'm not sure that I can trust it. You have the connections that I need and I trust you." No matter how cold his hospitality skills and manner might have been Gibbs did trust the man before him, and considering recent events trust was a hard thing to come across for him these days.

"What kind of info?" The hand inched closer to the gun even as a steaming coffee cup was brought to chapped lips.

"The kind about an arms dealer named La Grenuille, what he had to do with the kidnapping of a Mossad Agent from Naples yesterday." The man before him showed no emotion but Gibbs didn't expect him to, so he continued. "I need to know how his organization works on the fringes, if you have any friends who work for him, and his weaknesses."

The silence dragged on, the only sound the occasional sipping of coffee, and hum of machines. "Took a risk comin' here Gunny. Lots of men I work with want you dead. What's the name of this agent?"

"Mia Rief." Unconsciously Gibbs fingered the silver cross he still wore around his neck. The sound of pen against paper filled the room.

"What's she to you?" The question was not unexpected but that didn't mean that he dreaded it any less. What was Kate to him? Lover? Girlfriend? His Katie? All were true but none seemed good enough. The walls he had so carefully constructed, lowered slightly as emotion coloured his voice. "Everything."

The switch from the monotone fact-delivering voice did not go unnoticed. Coming from the Gunny it meant a lot, and with this realization, the hand which had been reaching for the gun moved to the coffee cup. A simple action, but one which meant so much. Minutes stretched on, though the silence was no more comfortable. Morrison thought through his options, many as they were, and considered the request before him.

"I owe you my life Gunny, so I'll do this for you and your girl." At that Gibbs stood, nodded once more and placed his cup on the end-table. Morrison moved to a safe in the corner of the room, and fished around before handing over a key. "Post office box off DuPont Circle. Twenty-four hours."

As he headed towards the door, Gibbs added one more thing. "No one can know I was here, Morrison." The large man didn't reply and Gibbs knew he was pushing his luck. He walked down the steps, again avoiding the wire, before heading back to his car. Hoping all the while that twenty-four hours wouldn't be too late.

--

She awoke with a start, unbearable mind-numbing cold hitting her face. Blinking her eyes she realized it was ice water which had been thrown over her head. The shiver that went through her body only intensified the pain in her shoulders. As she was taking stock of her situation, the man she had pretended to recognize came into view.

"Good Ms. Rief, I see you have joined us once again. Now I do believe that you about to tell me exactly how much you know about my organization." She made no reply, she had made a mistake before when she answered his initial questions. Her mind might still be fuzzy with pain and shock but she knew that much.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the other man come forward holding a metal crowbar which had a red hot end. Knowing what was going to come next she almost whimpered, almost. She felt the older man lift up the hem of her shirt exposing her stomach to cool air. Kate recoiled from his touch, causing the man to laugh.

"I won't kill you my dear, not till I know what you know."

The smell of hot iron filled her nose. The question came once more. Her scream filled the air, and the smell of burnt flesh overwhelmed her. She struggled to hold her fragile mind together, against the pain, and the smell, and the harsh out of place sound of laughter. She pictured Gibbs, his smiling face the one thing that brought any comfort, small though it was, and she wondered if he knew she had been taken.


End file.
